


The Comforts of Home

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [97]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-14
Updated: 2007-03-14
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John visits Alder Run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Comforts of Home

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex and Ula
> 
> Thanks to Carol for inspiring this story.
> 
> This story is a companion piece to [Model Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1907868), Arcadia # 83.

A couple lives here.  
  
John's first thought as he and Ginny strolled up the path to Quinn and Ian's door. Insight hard won, as he had struggled to accept his son's relationship with Ian since last November.  
  
He'd resisted it with all the strength of his lifelong convictions, working through it with his parish priest for months. He would always have deep-seated doubts about the rightness of it all, but his love for Quinn had finally won out. He had never been happier than when wrapped in Quinn's bear hug on Christmas Eve.  
  
Nor would he ever forget the smile on Quinn's face.  
  
His worries had melted away in the warmth of Quinn's embrace, leaving only father and son. And, as Quinn's dad, he was learning that love had to be unconditional, or it wasn't love at all.  
  
He had been sorely tested on that first visit, when the euphoria of Christmas Eve was only a memory. He'd had a hard time just talking with Quinn and Ian. The Skyhawks game had been a blessed diversion.  
  
And the New Year's Eve party. Somehow, he'd gotten through it, despite the awkwardness of greeting his ready-made family. It was particularly hard meeting Lelia, a reminder of what Ginny and he would never have. She'd charmed him as thoroughly as she had the others, and Ginny had practically adopted her.  
  
Now Ginny and he were visiting again, with no special occasion to see them through. Quinn greeted them at the door, a shade too politely, as if he were negotiating for their favor.  
  
Inside, the tang of artifice was gone, replaced by the reality of the couple before him.  
  
He was in their home.  
  
He acknowledged it now, reluctantly, indeed could hardly help it, enveloped as he was by their joint lives. The photos he'd imagined on the mantel were now out in force -- hugs on cruises, hot dogs at picnics, grins on bikepaths, desserts in Williamsburg candlelight, toasts at their wedding.  
  
Their wedding. It still seemed wrong to see two grooms embracing at the altar, but the incandescent smiles on their faces reached out to him in mute appeal. Had Quinn the nerve to invite him, he would have said no in reflexive outrage, but he'd have a very different answer today.  
  
During their estrangement, he'd had time to think about what he was giving up, and had finally decided the price was too high. When he saw Jo and Keith with them, the proud parents, he could see what he'd almost lost forever.  
  
They were surrounded by Prentices in so many of the pictures, dating from before Lelia's birth. Ian's family had been a part of their lives for years. He was determined to stand beside them, too, to take his rightful place in Quinn's life again.  
  
At least the two sets of parents and sons, with two sets of beaming college graduates, were still proudly displayed, not supplanted by the wealth of new photographs.  
  
When Quinn got him a beer, he could see that snapshots had colonized the refrigerator, as well. Ginny and he smiling in front of their apartment building; Lelia in her princess costume, waving her wand; Quinn and Ian shoveling their driveway; Jo curled up with a book by the fireplace; Monty and Keith watching TV.  
  
The dining nook was just as cozy as he remembered, with emerald green placemats now joining the wooden napkin basket. He was pleased that they were still using his and Ginny's gift.  
  
He stood by with his beer while Ian rummaged through the bookcase in Quinn's office, searching for a copy of Perelandra to give Ginny. His eye was drawn to Ian's team trophy from The Empire State Games, along with those from his career as a Jedai Knight. Quinn's Debating Team medals gleamed beside them.  
  
The model train set now gave him a smile. Quinn and he had run them together on New Year's Eve, taking turns at the controls. The pipe on the Longbottom Leaf carriage was his favorite; it brought back memories of his father puffing away.  
  
When he used the facilities, he allowed himself a chuckle behind the safely locked door. The guest bathroom was obviously still just that. No humidity in here. Pristine tub, hand towels, same ornamental Skyhawks soap, used only when family and friends came over.  
  
But the second bedroom no longer had the look of a stage set. It was clearly Ian's office, overrun with stacks of paper on the desk and closet shelves. Even the bed was scattered with books.  
  
The door to the master bedroom was open. After a year of being closed off from it, he indulged his unseemly curiosity, and peeked in at the first opportunity. Teak furniture surrounded Quinn's old king-sized bed. Neatly made, it had a green and blue tartan comforter on it which he hadn't seen before. Their beloved hobbits played on the walls, just as they did in Quinn's childhood room, and plants ran rampant over every windowsill.  
  
Never would he want to imagine what went on in here -- he was still coming to terms with that disturbing kiss which had begun the estrangement. He didn't know if he could bear to see another. Fortunately, in the past couple of months since they'd reconciled, Quinn and Ian had behaved as they always had around him -- as the best friends he'd originally believed them to be.  
  
He realized their efforts had gone a long way to foster his grudging acceptance. When he saw a deck of cards on the hall table, with well-thumbed instructions on how to play contract bridge by its side, a small smile lit his face as he imagined future bridge nights for four.  
  
He bent to pick up a card, the King of Hearts, blown to the carpet by a spring breeze. Gone was the swept-clean showplace he'd seen a few months ago, replaced by homey clutter. Their house had a comfortable feel to it now that he celebrated in spite of himself.  
  
He felt at home. 


End file.
